


Catfish scheme

by tall_wolf_of_tarth



Series: Tinder shenanigans [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Fluff, Tinder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tall_wolf_of_tarth/pseuds/tall_wolf_of_tarth
Summary: “I’m pretending to be a hot girl on tinder so I can match with my roomate and tell him Im coming over so he’ll clean the apartment”Brienne pretends to be a hot girl in Tinder so Jaime would clean the apartment. Based on a tweet.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Tinder shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584565
Comments: 50
Kudos: 230





	1. Chapter 1

Brienne I

_“I’m pretending to be a hot girl on tinder so I can match with my roommate and tell him Im coming over so he’ll clean the apartment” _

“I should totally do this to Jaime” groaned Brienne. “I mean he never fucking cleans, and he is constantly in Tinder, I mean all the damn time!”. Yara cackled, and Sansa refilled their glasses. They were pretty drunk already, but Brienne was still not ready to go home to her apartment she shared with Jaime fooking Lannister. Who was a damn slob and an asshole, and never fucking cleaned up after himself and was generally too damn annoying? “I don't know why I put up with him in my home!” Sansa drunk some wine, and Yara just rolled her eyes, they clearly had heard that rant before and knew already why she put up with him. Because Jaime was...

Brienne actually didn't want to think about nice things about Jaime. She'd rather concentrate on things that annoyed her. He never cleaned up after himself, and was constantly on his phone, draped over her couch like an annoying, beautiful asshole cat. The kind of cat who laid on top of your keyboard when you tried to work or pushed fragile things off the countertops for funsies.

“It is a good idea, you know,” Sansa said surprisingly. “We should totally do it. By we, I mean you of course. But me and Yara could help, like, you'll need a picture of some girl, and we'll set up a profile, and you'll flirt with him and invite yourself over...” Sansa wasn't able to finish before Brienne yelled loudly over her: “And then he will have to clean the apartment! Fucking yes, this is the best idea!!”

It was the best idea, they decided, quite drunkenly, and Yara asked her cousin Elaine if she could use her pictures for the fake profile. Elaine was super hot, and lived in Dorne, and apparently didn't mind at all if they would use her pictures for catfishing Brienne's roommate.

So they set up the fake profile on Brienne's phone, both girls crowding next to Brienne on the couch. Jaime liked redheads, she knew. He was sure to like this fake hot girl they were creating, because Elaine was pretty and dainty and wore sexy top on her photo. Sansa got to name her. “Ros, she should be Ros”. All this exited Brienne a little bit. To pretend to be this cute and sexy girl, whom men would like. Even if it was fake.

They set up her interests to match Jaimes, and started to browse. That was fun too, to go through the pictures of men, Sansa cooing over cute ones and Yara heckling about the silly profiles some of them had. She did match with some of the men they saw, just because the other girls insisted. “Ros would like him, he's a redhead like her” Yara claimed so Brienne swiped right on a tall guy with a beard and again swiped right whenever they saw someone cute. She immediately got some matches back, and she even got some messages. Most of them were of variations of "Hi" but one asked her phone number. Like that's going to happen, she thought and unmatched that guy.

“God, I hope we won't see anyone we know”, moaned Yara, and of course the next profile was of Sansa's family friend Theon. That made Sansa and Brienne to laugh until tears because Theon's profile picture was him sitting on a motorbike that they knew wasn't his. And the whole idea of Theon pretending to be a cool tough guy in Tinder was so ridiculous but also a little bit sad. “I'm not going to match with him”, said Brienne. “Theon is soft. He doesn't deserve to be catfished” and they swiped left again. Small voice inside Brienne's head tried to say that Jaime is soft too, but she quickly stomped that thought out. Jaime Lannister was an inconsiderate asshole who bragged about the super-matches he got from Tinder.

They did found Jaime's picture finally. It was a selfie of him in his bedroom, Brienne clearly saw his antique sword on the wall. There were other pictures too in his profile. One which Brienne had taken in their gym, Jaime grinning to the camera. She had kicked his ass that day, she remembered. In other picture, she saw her own hand on his shoulder, but she herself had been cropped out. She remembered that day, it had been the first time they had gone to The Armory together to look at the swords and he had asked someone to take their picture in front of the display. It had been one of the best days she had in Kings Landing.

“I hate him,” she thought. “I hate him so much”. She swiped right.


	2. Jaime I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm not a slob,” he lied. There was no pizza on the floor, only two empty pizza boxes and he was quite sure there was no actual pizza left in them. “Stranger fuck me sideways, even internet women nag me about the mess”, he thought bitterly.

_Jaime_

Jaime didn't understand what was about this redheaded girl in Tinder that made him think about Brienne. Maybe it was because if he didn't pay attention his mind had a tendency to slip towards Brienne. Or maybe it was the way the redhead flirted in chat, talking about “_that sword in your bedroom_”. When he had told Brienne why he mounted his antique sword to his bedroom wall she had laughed herself silly. “So you can invite girls over to look at it?” She had also called him a dumbass, in the affectionate way she did whenever he had been particularly stupid. But now someone actually had noticed the sword in the background of his Tinder profile pic, and used _his_ stupid pickup line, “_will you show me your sword, ser_”, gods, and all he could think was that Brienne would laugh her great honking laugh again when he would tell her about it later. Except that Brienne hadn't been laughing at his jokes lately, instead she just scowled at him or rolled her eyes and turned away from him. She was upset with him, and he didn't know why, and when he asked her she always started to rant about the apartment and how he was a slob and an asshole of not cleaning it up. He knew it wasn't about the apartment, it was something else, but he didn't know how to ask without it turning to yelling match about the mess in the living room again.

Alright, the living room was a mess, but it had been worse before and they had cleaned it up together without a fight, and some parts of the mess was actually her mess. The books lying in dusty piles on the floor definitely were hers. The scattered clothes draped on the furniture were mostly his, except some that were Brienne's. Or what had been her things before he had nicked them from her and wore them as his own. But yes, there was also trash on the coffee table he had left there, and his magazines under the sofa, and a bag of stale popcorn toppled all over the floor and layer of dust coated everywhere. Jaime didn't understand why Brienne was so opposed to the idea of a cleaning service. He hated cleaning, and would gladly pay someone else doing it for him. And the place did need professional help, the kitchen and the bathroom were also messy, and all of it was too much to do alone and he didn't want to do it anyways.

So he fell back to the sofa, and opened Tinder app again. The redheaded girl with freckles, Ros, had sent him a new message.

“Can I come over on tonight? We could Netflix and chill.” Well, Jaime knew what that meant. The thought excited him little, but also made him quite nervous. It would be nice to cuddle on the sofa with a girl, to pretend to watch something stupid from the telly, to sneak an arm over her shoulders, to cuddle first and then to make out and in the end tumble over to the sofa, in a great tangle of tall awkward freckled limbs. He wondered if that Tinder redhead, Ros, had freckles on her legs like Brienne did. He had once asked Brienne, “do you have freckles _everywhere,_ wench?” and she had blushed furiously and called him an idiot.

“That does sound nice...” he responded to Ros. “What would we watch?”

“Something epic with swords? Idk like Oathkeeper”. That was his favourite movie.

“What's your place like?” she continued. “Don't tell me you are a slob, so many guys have disgusting homes. I'd hate to come over and step into a pizza or something.”

“I'm not a slob” he lied. There was no pizza on the floor, only two empty pizza boxes and he was quite sure there was no actual pizza left in them. “Stranger fuck me sideways, even internet women nag me about the mess”, he thought bitterly.

“Or you could show me your sword... I bet you keep that clean” came another message. Jaime squirmed both in pleasure and shame. The motion caused a big pile of laundry perched on the edge of the sofa to avalanche onto of him. He removed a handful of socks from his face. There was one of Brienne's sock there, fluffy pink thing patterned with dancing pineapples. Jaime sighed. The living room really was a mess. _We can't have anyone over_, she had yelled at him last week. She was right, of course. The place was a pigsty and needed a cleaning. There was no way any sane woman would make out with him in a pile of mostly clean laundry. Where was the wench, anyway? He hadn't seen her all morning. Her room had been empty when he had passed it this morning.

Maybe she was meeting someone. Like someone _she_ met at Tinder. Jaime himself hadn't actually gone and meet anyone from Tinder, yet. And then _Brienne_ had gone and joined the damn thing as well. He had seen the icon on her phone last week. Maybe that's why she wanted him to clean the apartment, because _she_ wanted to bring men over.

_Fuck._

The thought of some assholes from Tinder meeting Brienne, _touching_ her, made him feel murderous. They were assholes, he knew that because he had overheard her complaining about them on the phone one night. “I can't believe how many dick pics I've received, the men there all awful!”. Fucking Tinder was a menace. He hated it, he really didn't know why he spent time with it. He never did like strangers but it did felt easier than chatting unknown women in the bar.

He pretty much liked no one in Tinder, but still swiped right quite often. He got some super-likes, from pretty girls but in the end he always felt mildly annoyed in the flood of unknown faces and messages he didn't want to open. He never chatted with anyone longer than a few lines, and it always, always, felt so fake. But Tyrion was right, he did need to pull his head out of his ass and do something besides moping on the sofa. But first, he needed to find out where Brienne was and with who. And when she would be back.

“Wench where are you? When are you coming back?” he texted her. It took her a while to answer, three dots blinking below his bubble.

“@home”

“no you're not, I'm here and you're not. where are you really?”

“home @Tarth. Going to the pub with Gal and friends later”

That shook him little. She had gone to Tarth without telling him. She must have left already yesterday, or this morning, taking the early flight. And she had promised him (well he had needled her until she agreed with him) to take him to Tarth next time she'd go. Instead she had sneaked out of their apartment, and left without telling him she's going away for the weekend. The thought upset him. Well, at least she wasn't with some Tinder asshole, and the apartment would be his for the night. He picked up his phone again and typed a quick reply to Ros, stuffed his phone to his pocket and started to gather the dishes from the floor. Brienne was right, you really can't have anyone over in this pigsty. Better clean it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually don't know anything about Tinder. I admit, I am a fossil. Apologies if I got it wrong.


	3. Brienne II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne liked Oathkeeper. It had good fight scenes and Arthur Dayne was a snack. She didn't care that the dragon looked like it was made from papier mache or that Blue Knight wore an armour that left her skinny midriff bare. She liked it because Arthur Dayne's character was a true knight, honourable and kind who did the right thing in the end and never sent anyone ravens with dicks drawn on them. Arthur Dayne stared dreamily at Blue Knight across the fields and said things like “It's yours. It will always be yours.”

_Brienne_

“I cleaned the apartment. You can come back now”.

“I don't believe you”. She didn't. In the end she had freaked out and shut down Tinder app before setting the details of Ros going over to Jaime. Her head always was clearer when she was in Tarth. It was wrong to catfish Jaime, and she didn't want to go further with it. And what would she do anyway? She couldn't go over herself, she had ran away to Tarth, and she couldn't produce Elaine out of Dorne to go over either. Only option was to cancel the fake hookup or to ghost him. Brienne, cravenly, decided to ghost him.

Her phone buzzed. It buzzed again, and again. Jaime had sent her pictures of their home. It was clean. Well, cleaner. The trash was gone, and both dirty and clean clothes were gone from the livingroom. There were no dirty dishes on top of the counters in the kitchen. Gods, she thought, in shock. _It worked._ He actually had cleaned the apartment. Well, made it clean-er than it was before. He must have really believed that Ros was coming over. Or maybe he arranged some other hot girl to come over _to polish his sword_.

Her phone buzzed again. Jaime.

“When are you coming back? With the afternoon plane, or the one that comes really late? I'll pick you up from the dock.”

“Is that your Jaime?” asked Gals wife from across the table. “How is he?”

“He's not my Jaime” she muttered. “And he's still an asshole. I don't know why I put up with him!” Brienne took a long angry drink from his pint. Gal rolled his eyes.

“Why are you angry with him this time?”

“I'm not angry with him!” huffed Brienne, angrily. “He never cleans the apartment!” In fairness, that wasn't strictly true any more, was it? Because in fact, Jaime just had cleaned the apartment. But she couldn't say that to Gal, could she? That she was angry with him because he had cleaned the apartment. That didn't make any sense, so she heaved herself up from their table and stomped to the bar, while not being angry at all. Or maybe she was angry, she thought while waiting for the barman to pour their drinks. _Why are you angry with him now?_ whispered the small voice in her head. Probably the same one that had tried to tell her that Jaime was soft. She should have smothered it better.

_I'm angry with him because he chats with women in Tinder_, she realised. But she had no right to be angry because of that. Jaime was not hers, she shouldn't be jealous if he chatted with other girls. And she herself had chatted with some men in Tinder. Well, it was Ros who had. Or her, pretending to be Ros. It was confusing. She didn't actually want to meet any of them. Not that Jaime would care if she had. All things Tinder irritated her increasingly.

“Come with the earlier one.” her phone buzzed again. Jaime. She ignored him. He pestered on: “wench lets do something nice tomorrow night. Let's watch Oathkeeper. It's nice and clean here” She sighed. “Alright”, she finally sent back her answer. “pick me up from seaplane dock, 4 pm. don't be late”.

* * *

He wasn't late, surprisingly. She saw him from the plane window, leaning against his ridiculously fancy car, waiting for the passengers to disembark. He was overwhelmingly handsome and Brienne's chest felt tight. “Wench,” he greeted her happily, “I missed you” and pulled her to a hug. It felt nice and she didn't want to let go so she squirmed away from him. “Dad sent you some fish” she muttered and gave him the slightly smelly package. “Smoked fish? Your dad is the best.” He leaned forward, kissed her cheek and yanked her overnight bag from her hand. “You won't believe when you'll see our place, I cleaned all day and night yesterday. It's so nice now.”

During their drive home she opened Tinder app again. She wanted to type an apology from Ros to Jaime. There were two more dick pics, slightly surprisingly since she hadn't made any new matches after finding Jaime's profile. She didn't find their message thread first, not until she saw one labelled with “_account deleted_” instead of Jaime's name and icon. It had their messages still there, but his account was gone. Jaime had deleted his Tinder account. The last message was from Jaime, to Ros. “I'm sorry, but I'm not free tonight. Or any other night. Actually I'm not free at all” and “_account deleted_” message again.

_Well, that was new_. Ros will be so disappointed, she thought absurdly. Her throat felt dry. She logged out of the app and deleted it from her phone. Jaime was driving his stupid car and hummed happily to the radio. I hate Tinder, she thought and felt oddly free.

The apartment was clean. Well, clean-er. Jaime had clearly still not yet figured out why wiping kitchen counters was a necessary task, and there were fat dust bunnies with popcorn eyes peeking out under the tv stand, but overall their home was now nice, comfortable and mostly free of crap. There was no evidence of any Tinder-girls visiting. “I'm impressed, Jaime” she was forced to say to beaming Jaime tagging after her. “You even figured out how the vacuum cleaner works. It must have taken you ages to do all this.”

“It did” he grinned, pleased with the praise he had earned working hard and having been a good <strike>boy</strike> roommate. “Let's watch Oathkeeper” he exclaimed and pulled her to the couch.

Brienne liked Oathkeeper. It had good fight scenes and Arthur Dayne was a snack. She didn't care that the dragon looked like it was made from papier mache or that Blue Knight wore an armour that left her skinny midriff bare. She liked it because Arthur Dayne's character was a true knight, honourable and kind who did the right thing in the end and never sent anyone ravens with dicks drawn on them. Arthur Dayne stared dreamily at Blue Knight across the fields and said things like “It's yours. It will always be yours.”

“Brienne,” sighed Jaime. He had somehow managed to drape his arm across her shoulders without her noticing.

“Brienne. Are you still angry with me?”

“Hm?” said Brienne, because Arthur Dayne was now staring wistfully at an island from a ship.

“Brienne,” sighed Jaime again, and his breath tickled her ear. He was much closer to her than he had been when the movie started. She turned away from Arthur Dayne and looked into Jaime's green eyes. He looked nervous.

That little voice in her head had grown stronger and was nagging her again.

“No, Jaime” she sighed. “I'm not angry with you any more.” Jaime grinned happily and pulled her even closer. His other hand was now on her arm. On the television, Arthur Dayne gave a sword to Blue Knight. There was some fighting, and ice spiders and Arthur Dayne called Blue Knight wench. The voice in her head was really loud now.

“Hey Jaime...” she asked him. He didn't notice, because Arthur Dayne's character was dreaming about Blue Knight now. She was all naked and had a flaming sword and pert tits. This was Jaime's favourite part, she knew. Arthur Dayne was also naked in the dream and had a flaming sword. He had been such a snack when they filmed this. The nagging voice in her head got distracted as well by the naked dream. They were fighting again on the screen. Blue Knight kicked some ass and music swelled when she pulled off her helmet. “You really have astonishing eyes” said Arthur Dayne on screen. “Your eyes are much bluer,” said Jaime against her neck. The nagging voice in her head had recovered from seeing Arthur Dayne's naked ass and was back nagging at her.

“Hey Jaime,” she asked again. “Did you set up your Tinder account just to wind me up?” He looked slightly ashamed. “Maybe” he mumbled and blushed quite prettily.

“You are an idiot you know” she sighed, but in an affectionate way. She leaned her head against Jaime's shoulder.

“I've deleted it, the account.”

“I deleted mine too. I got like seven dick pics.” There was more fighting on the screen. Jaime's hand was on her thigh now. It made her warm inside. _I fucking told you so_, said the nagging voice in her head happily. The music swelled on the screen again, and Blue Knight tried to give her sword back to Arthur Dayne's character. Arthur Dayne was speaking again, but she didn't look at the screen, she looked at her Jaime, who was staring back at her.

“Hey wench” he whispered, and moved his hand from her thigh to her cheek. He kissed her, very gently first, and she kissed him back and Jaime's hands were roaming all over her and they really didn't pay much attention to the movie until the end credits rolled. She looked down on him then, because she had managed to get him pinned under her, which he didn't seem to mind at all. He lifted his head up and kissed her again, and whispered, eyes full of mischief.

“Do you want to see the sword I have in my bedroom?”

She did, of course. It really was a nice sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know that Tinder doesn't work like that but humour me, please. I had such fun writing this, and I don't care it came out a little bit messy.
> 
> Some headcanons: 
> 
> He obviously calls her wench because that's what Arthur Dayne calls Blue Knight.
> 
> Jaime's favourite scene is not nekkid dream scene, but the equivalent of the book scene when Brienne throws a rock at the Riverland ship and dives off a cliff.
> 
> The dragon in Oathkeeper looks like something done in early Doctor Who episodes. The film is like 30 years old and Arthur Dayne looks like young Brad Pitt. The actress playing Blue Knight is really fit and muscular, and Jaime has spent much of his youth wanking and thinking about her muscular shoulders and bare midriff and flaming sword.
> 
> Jaime's antique sword is an antique replica of Widows wail that he nicked from family armoury in his youth. Brienne is the only other person who is allowed to hold it.
> 
> This is first fic I’ve written if not counting a Ten/Rose fic I wrote sometimes when S2 of newWho aired. Honestly I should have started sooner.


End file.
